Cain roused them all shortly before sunset, in time for them to eat some supper before they were on their way. Raw's people had made a considerable effort to give them a sendoff, their group amazed at the spread which was placed before them in the viewer's hut. It was enough that Raw eventually looked embarassed. "They are happy that Raw's friends have met them. Hopeful for us. Want to wish luck on mission."

"I doubt that they want to see a war anymore than the rest of us do." DG said, as she piled some of the bizarre vegetables onto a slice of bread. If the others were eating them, she guessed that they must have been safe to consume, even if she didn't know the names of the foods yet. "That much anger and pain surely must reach them even up here?"

"It does." Raw said solemnly. "Part of why Raw's people made home here. Far enough from other people. Far away from war. But Bodwingale close to here, so Viewers will feel it if there is a battle. Must not let that happen."

"We won't, Raw." DG promised.

They finished their dinner quickly, eager to get on the trail. Raw's people had given them more supplies for the journey, some foods that would keep, more bedrolls and blankets constructed out of soft furs. Cain had urged them not to take too much, since they would be traveling fast on their way to the border. This wasn't so easy to manage, considering how many of Raw's people were trying to give them handmade gifts and trinkets for luck. They were able to push most of them off, promising to return for them when they had finished their journey.

At last, the twin moons were climbing the sky, and Cain gave the order that it was time to go. They had some horses to share between them, which was going to help them cover more ground quickly. DG rode behind Cain on the tin man's horse, considering that he was the most able rider among them aside from Zero. The princess looked around at her friends, as Raw and Ambrose guided their own mounts behind them; a procession of heroes on the way to saving their kingdom again. Well, four heroes and a Longcoat.

Zero kept to the back of the group, to keep an eye out for any threats from behind them. Despite the fact that DG still couldn't figure out why Ambrose had decided to bring him along, it was reassuring to know that someone was watching their backs. She leaned towards Cain, speaking to the man over his right shoulder. "Do you think our chances are good that we'll manage to prevent this war?"

"Hard to say." Cain answered quietly, eyes locked on the trail ahead of them. "I think our chances are definitely better than, say, a rag-tag band of friends trying to overthrow an evil dictator and powerful Sorceress." DG caught the corner of his smile when the man's head turned briefly back her way. "We're better prepared now than we were that time. Zero's shady, but capable. And Ambrose's brain might still be glitchy, yet it might pull off a miracle plan to save us from too much trouble."

"I noticed that." DG's voice was wry against his back. Her blue eyes spun over serruptitiously in the direction of the advisor. Ambrose was as awake and alert as the rest of them, yet there was a cloud of distraction over his features. "Is it just me, or do you get the feeling that he's not letting on as much as he should?"

That question made Cain sigh. He had not forgotten the scene at the frozen palace, when Ambrose had been victim to those frightening convulsions. While there had not yet been a relapse, the tin man was not certain that their friend was out of the woods by miles. He decided not to tell DG about those fits. "I'm not sure, kid. But Ambrose is a smart guy. I doubt he'd do anything too stupid, knowing that we're going to need him for the adventure up ahead. We'll just have to trust that he knows what he's doing."

"True." That seemed to appease the young woman, who fixed her eyes back ahead of them. "If it does seem like he's taking a turn for the worse, however, I'm going to use my magic to plant him directly back in Central City."

Chuckling, Cain murmured. "You won't hear any argument from me, DG. Consider that an approved plan."


He had no concept of time. It felt like he had been walking forever, everything having blurred together in a pattern of dark, light, dark, light. There were white circles over his head when it was dark, which he thought were really very pretty. The bright yellow spots when it was light hurt his eyes when he looked at them for too long. Which is why he ended up walking when it was dark out, since his eyes preferred it that way.

His body ached, mostly in the middle, something missing. He could not figure out what that was. It was only when he happened to spy a bird plucking out worms from the muddy ground of the forest that it dawned on him that he should do the same. But what to put in his mouth? It was a haphazard series of experiments.

Leaves weren't so bad. The brown stuff under his feet was horrible. Water from the streams made his throat hurt much less. Water sometimes fell down on his head, too, when the moons were hiding. He stumbled across some red berries on a bush, popping them into his mouth. They were sweet; he decided that he liked them best. So, he took every single one of them off the bush, until the ache in his middle went away.

Not all of the berries were good, though. He had eaten a couple that had made him feel terrible, made him get sick all over the ground. Don't eat those berries, don't eat those berries, don't eat those berries. He told himself that over and over and over again, and the next time he reached out to eat some of them, the message had sunk in, so that he did not eat them again.

It made him feel really good that he could remember something. He wept happily as he helped himself to a bush of the good berries, finding them impossibly sweeter while knowing that he had done something correctly.

Still, the berries did not seem to keep the ache in his middle gone for very long. He tried to figure out what that meant. Finally, after a full hour of puzzling through it, he understood what it was. Hunger. His stomach was empty. It wanted more than just berries put in it.

The pain in his stomach wasn't so hard to ignore. It was just annoying. His head hurt worse. He wept and wept and wept when it got too bad, slapping at the top of it when it drove him into a frantic fit, then clutching it protectively whenever that urge passed. The zipper was cold and rough. He hated it. His clothes were soft to the touch. He liked those much better, touching them with his fingers all the time, smiling at the brocade, not even minding when his fingers had fussed with the lining so much that it began to fray.

It was during one of these times, when he was smiling down at a rope of gold that had come loose from his jacket, that he found himself confronted with someone for the first time in as long as he could remember. This was not like the face in the water that sometimes waved back at him when he went to drink it. He realized that this face was attached to another person.

"...Grandfather? Grandfather, come here, quick! You won't believe it!" The round face in front of him was much shorter than him. Everything smaller in size. He laughed, finding it the darnedest thing!

His laughter ceased as another person came out to join the other, and this one was just his size. He studied the lines and wrinkles of this new person, seeing that the face's hair was perfectly white! Both of them were looking at him warily, and their caution started to make him nervous, edging back to the trees that he had just walked out of.

"He looks scared, Grandfather.."

"That he does, Yinn, that he does. Judging by how he looks, I can't say that I blame him."

"We should help him." The small person approached him, taking cautious steps, hands spread out to show that he didn't have anything in his hands to hurt the scared man with. "Sir? Do you need help?"

He blinked at the boy without comprehension, not understanding the question. Since it didn't seem like this person wanted to hurt him, he decided not to run just yet. The boy had come to stand a little ways away, studying him carefully. "We will help you. Come on.." One of the small hands rose up, palm raised, the fingers beckoning.

Something told him that he should take hold of that hand. That it was okay. That he was safe. But that something came and went when it wanted to, so he was never sure whether he could trust it or not. Still.. He put his own larger hand into that small one, and smiled.


"Glitch?!"

He shook himself, blinking around him in confusion. "What?"

Ambrose gathered that it was DG who had called to him, and that the girl had done so from across the little stream which separated them. The others were waiting on that side as well, having turned their horses around when they realized that the advisor had stopped before crossing. Had he blanked out completely?

With a light laugh, he guided his horse forward across the water. "Oh, sorry about that. My brain must have wandered away from me there for a second or two."

DG's blue eyes were fixed on him, intense with concern. "Glitch, you were standing over there for about three minutes without so much as blinking while we called to you."

"Was it that long?" Ambrose scowled, before shaking his head. "I didn't mean to delay us. Next time, if you keep going, I am sure that I'll catch up."

Cain glanced towards the others. "Maybe we should take a break."

Everyone else looked at him like he had just grown a second head. That was not something they had ever expected would come out of the lawman's mouth. Ambrose knew that it was meant to be for his benefit, but he already felt ashamed that he had stopped them at all. "No, Cain, it's okay. It was just a little glitch is all. I'm fine now. Let's keep going."


They let the horses free once the smoke coming from the chimneys in Wayside was visible, deciding to take the rest of the way on foot to avoid notice. A procession on horseback would have drawn far more attention. It was also decided that they would enter the city in shifts, rather than all at once, and meet at some central point of the marketplace within the hour. They divided up with Cain, DG and Zero entering first. If any trouble met them when they entered, the two men were the most capable at handling it. Then Ambrose and Raw would follow, the Viewer cloaking himself since he was so unique.

While there were soldiers posted here and there throughout the city, it seemed that there had been no alert about them. Cain supposed that, since they had dispatched the only soldiers who might have known their location, the Prince probably didn't consider putting an alert out in his own territory. That element of surprise was going to work in their favor.

Cain kept a hand poised on DG's arm, keeping the girl close to him as they progressed deeper into Wayside, in search of the marketplace. The booths began to appear around them, sporadic at first but quickly becoming more organized the further in that they walked. Zero had to shoulder his way around pushy vendors trying to peddle their wares, catching Cain's attention before jutting his chin in the direction of a large booth that had several different garments hanging from its racks. "Over there.."

DG broke away from Cain once they had reached the booth, searching over the garments. She fingered a long skirt in bright patterns of fabric. "This stuff reminds me of what gypsies wear."

"Gypsies?" Zero asked, quirking an eyebrow as he sized up a few of the men's garments.

"Um.. nomads. They were a culture from back home, that used to dress in colorful clothes and entertain people in cities. I remember seeing pictures in books of the women wearing skirts like this when they danced."

"Women who dance and entertain in the O.Z. like that generally tend to wear a lot less." The former Longcoat drawled with a smirk, amused as he got the attention of the vendor. "How much are you charging for these garments?"

"Fifty platinums each." The aged woman behind the counter said.

"Fifty--?!" Zero gaped at her, before shooting a dark look to Cain. "Something tells me that buying clothes here is going to be far more expensive than we'd anticipated."

"Undoubtedly." Cain agreed with a hard stare to the aged woman. If he still had his badge, he'd have run her in for robbery, jurisdiction or not.

Sensing that they were not going to buy, the women snorted softly and ambled back over to a customer browsing across the way. DG dropped hold of the skirt, rubbing her fingers against her jeans. "The clothes aren't that worth it."

They turned away from the booth in time to see Ambrose rushing up to them grinning from ear to ear. "Why the long faces?"

"The clothes here are going to cost a king's ransom." Cain explained, before noticing how smug the advisor looked. "What's got you so pleased? And where is Raw?"

"You won't believe what we stumbled across." Ambrose said gleefully, waving for them to follow. "I think I might have found the perfect solution to all our problems. Raw's waiting nearby."

They trailed after him, wondering what possibly might have put the advisor in such a mood. Raw turned towards them when they came up to where the cloaked Viewer was standing, the seer looking highly amused. "Unexpected face."

Cain looked past them, tilting his head as he tried to figure out what they were talking about. Then his eyes landed on the gawdy vehicle lumbering past them. It was smaller than the one that they'd borrowed on their last trip, not quite as brightly decorated as its predecessor, but there was no mistaking that bad taste. Especially not when a voice came booming out from the speakers attached overhead. "Hurry, hurry, hurry -- Demilo's back in town for his latest world tour. Hurry, hurry, hurry -- delights aplenty await!"

Reaching up, the tin man placed a hand on Ambrose's closest shoulder, a slow smile spreading its way across Cain's normally stoic face. "Glitch? You really are a genius."

"I know." The other said, gloating. "Now why don't we go over and catch up on old times with your old pal?"


"Tin men AND Longcoats? What is this world coming to?"

Demilo was trying to sound as brave as he could while shivering in his boots, eyes darting between Zero and Cain with heavy fear. The man had plastered himself against the side of his wagon, as if he could somehow melt through the exterior to the other side. He laughed weakly. "Fancy meetin' both of you here, so far from Central. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"We're hiring your services, Demilo." Zero said coolly, the man continuing to loom in front of the other with an air of promised menace.

"How much are we talking about for payment?" The swindler automatically asked.

Cain reached up then, latching hold of a gold hoop in the man's ear, tugging it. Demilo howled out as the pain started, sputtering out. "Okay, okay! So I'll help you out for free. After all, we're all friends here, right?"

"How good of terms are you on with Bodwingale castle?" DG asked him, as Demilo rubbed at his ear.

"They love me in Bodwingale, cupcake." Demilo said, chuckling. "I even have my own booth for their little joust fests that they hold there each season, treat from the royals."

The others looked around between them, before Cain nodded. "You're going to take us to Bodwingale castle, Demilo."

"Why should I do something silly like that?" The man asked with a snort.

Cain's hand moved to rise again, but this time Zero beat him to it, twisting Demilo's other ear in his fingers. The swindler howled once more, before waving them off. "Okay, all right!" He huffed out as Zero removed his hand, glaring between the law man and the Longcoat. "You guys really need to learn how to treat your friends better. Get in."


"So, Mister Demilo, what happened to the missus-es?" Ambrose asked politely, finding it awkward to ride along with the man and not make some kind of conversation. He supposed that Demilo's silence might have been mainly due to the fact that Zero was sitting up in the cab next to the entertainer, but it just didn't strike the advisor as good manners, especially for an appointed royal official.

"Eh.. There was some .. ah .. problems." Demilo said vaguely, watching the road through the windows while his mother drove them on their way towards Bodwingale Castle. "Mainly due to the fact that my past associations left us temporarily homeless and all.." He glared at Cain in the rearview mirror.

At this rate, talking was probably going to result in violence. Ambrose decided that maybe silence was good after all. He patted Demilo sympathetically on the shoulder, then scooted back to where the others were seated, forcing a smile at Cain. "Never knew that you were such a homewrecker, tin man."

"I consider it an act of good citizenship, if those women decided to part from Demilo's company because of me." Cain muttered in response.

Ambrose smirked faintly to himself as he crawled past where the law man was seated, trying not to look too ungraceful in the process, since the entire back of the wagon was covered with pillows of assorted thickness and size, which seemed to like to slip out from under his hands. He heard Cain's voice following after him. "Maybe you should try to get some more sleep, Glitch. We'll be on the road for awhile."

"Yeah." DG said in support. "We'll wake you up the next time we stop. Best to give yourself a rest."

"That does sound appealing, actually." The advisor admitted, as he found the most comfortable pile of pillows that he could. With a few squirms, he had lounged himself down into a good position, not even minding the fact that half of these pillows smelled of Demilo's cheap cologne. Ambrose took advantage of what time he had, and fell to sleep within seconds, clearly exhausted.

Waiting until it seemed that the advisor had fallen deep enough into slumber, Raw climbed his way closer by Cain and DG, casting a look in the sleeping man's direction. "Raw looked into Glitch, like DG asked."

"Good, good." DG nodded quickly, keeping her voice low. "Thank you for doing it. Cain and I are both pretty worried."

The tin man's blue eyes fixed on the seer. "What did you see, Raw? Anything?"

"Very confusing." Raw explained slowly, taking his time with the words in order to make sense. "Glitch and Ambrose; Ambrose and Glitch. Brain is divided still between two. Both remembering things of the other. Ambrose very cold heart before Glitch, only thinking. Glitch very warm heart, much feeling. Ambrose trying to adapt to all that feeling. Confused by feelings.

DG nodded slowly. "Ambrose didn't like people. He told me that much before I left. So now he is trying to deal with the fact that he is suddenly a social guy thanks to Glitch?"

"Yes. And other feelings. Glitch feelings, that conflict with Ambrose."

"Which feelings?" The girl asked curiously.

Raw hesitated, eyes shifting in Cain's direction. He looked quickly away. "Glitch only know how to love or how to hate. Ambrose does not know how to do either. So Ambrose left with love or hate, and not know what to do about it. Trying to find compromise."

DG glanced towards the front of the wagon. "Like with Zero?"

"Perhaps." The seer turned his head in Zero's direction, frowning. "But Raw not think it simple as that. Ambrose feel ... complicated, with him. Feel same way with Cain, too."

Cain blinked at that. "What do you mean? Glitch and I weren't enemies. Sure, I might have been a little short with him at times, but I never deliberately hurt him or anything."

Raw was shaking his head, mouth shaping the trace of a smile. "Not bad feelings. Good feelings. Warm feelings. Ambrose feel bad feelings with Zero, feel good feelings with Cain, but both of them he does not understand."

Looking away from Raw, DG's blue eyes landed on Cain. Then she looked back to the seer, an eyebrow slowly lifting. "So.. you're saying that Ambrose has 'warm feelings' for Cain?"

Cain deliberately focused towards the window then, shifting his hat on his head. DG was grinning strangely. He decided that it was time to shift topics. "What about his fits and such? Did you find out what's causing him to.. glitch?"

"Raw could not tell." The viewer said apologetically, shaking his head. "Ambrose feel pain in his head. Confused at times." His eyes kept their focus on Cain's face until the tin man finally looked back towards him, before Raw added gently, "Glitch still fragile. In heart and now in mind. Must keep watchful eye on him until it is safe."

"We'll watch him." DG nodded, before the princess stretched herself over, brushing a stray brown curl out of the face of their slumbering friend, the action causing Ambrose to smile in his sleep. "We came this far together, and he's done so much for us. No way would we let him down now."


"Here, have some of this."

Yinn put the plate down on the table in front of the man with the zipper on his head, both he and his grandfather watching him carefully. They could not be sure yet what might alarm him or not, since everything so far had seemed to take the man by surprise. Yinn sat down at the table across from him, placing down his own plate in his spot. The man's dark eyes watched him curiously.

Trying to make the man understand, Yinn picked up his sandwich in both hands, taking a large bite out it. He nodded as he chewed, smiling around the mouthful. "Mm."

With a series of blinks, the man peered down at the sandwich on his own plate. He mimicked Yinn perfectly, pulling the sandwich up and taking a bite out of it. Yinn swallowed, grinning as he found his attempt to be successful. "There you go! You've got it. Good, huh?"

He watched as the stranger began to devour that sandwich with more enthusiasm, as hungry as his grandfather had guessed him to be. Yinn's eyes rose up to the silver zipper when the motions of the man's head made it glint, propping his head down in a fist. He forgot about eating his own sandwich for the time being, far too curious about the stranger. "So, what's your name? I'm Yinn. I live here with my grandfather."

The man chewed in silence, staring at him as he spoke. Yinn frowned lightly, then shifted tactics. "Can you talk?" Seeing that this did not seem to transmit, he gestured to his mouth as he repeated himself. "Taaaalk. Talk? Can you?"

Dark eyes searched around, lips twisting as the man struggled to grasp hold of the situation. Then, they parted, as he echoed softly, "Talk?"

"Yeah!" Yinn grinned broadly. "See, that wasn't so hard."

"No.." The man said, smiling back. "I guess it hadn't occured to me that I should try. That's much better than being quiet."

"You can talk pretty well." Yinn pointed out, before sliding his plate over across the table. He noticed that the man was already done with that other sandwich, so he volunteered his own. The man didn't seem to mind the bite marks, eating it quickly. "My name is Yinn, like I said before. What's yours?"

The question made the other man stop before taking another bite, frowning against the sandwich. His eyebrows drew together in concentration. "I... I don't know. I can't remember."

"Your brain's gone. It's no wonder you can't remember." Grandfather shuffled into the room at that point, making his way to the table. He eyed the stranger sidelong. "You don't look like a criminal. Too innocent a face. Even without their brains, you can still look a bad one in the eye and know that they are bad. Here, I made a pie out of some of the lemons out back."

Easing down gingerly into a chair between the two of them, the old man sighed. "Might not be warmed all the way through. The stove has been giving me problems since the last rainfall, when the roof leaked water down into the burners. Silly things have had a glitch ever since. Half the time, they don't even fire right."

Yinn took up the silverware sitting on the table, dishing out a third of it for each of them. He gave the stranger a little bit more than himself, since Yinn could tell how desperate the other was for food. His grandfather was still watching the stranger. "So now you're talking. That's good. Sometimes, they don't even remember how. Locked completely in their own heads, those ones. You seem to be coming around all right, though."

"Might be.." He said with a nod, using the fork beside his right hand to prod at the slice of pie on the plate in front of him.

"You remember how to use silverware, too." Yinn said, nodding towards the utensil.

"I do?" Brown eyes studied the fork thoughtfully. "...I just picked it up. I didn't really know what it was for. My hand just knew what to do with it."

"The body remembers what the mind does not." Grandfather said sagely, before chuckling. "I have this terrible pain in my hip, comes back every time there's going to be a downpour. But I can't for the life of me remember how I hurt it. Guess you'd better just listen to what your body tells you. It'll remember for you."

"Yes.. This is fruit, isn't it?" Stabbing a piece of the lemon pie with his fork, he put it into his mouth, nearly jabbing himself with the tongs. The coordination was going to take some work, even if the motions were familiar. He lowered the fork back down, then laughed softly. "Apples may become ripe or spoil eventually."

Yinn cocked his head to the side. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know." He answered with a shrug. Resuming his eating, he took some more bites of the pie on his plate, though not as quickly as he had eaten the sandwich. His body did not want to eat it as fast. He could not understand why it had wanted to eat one thing, but not the other.

"Hey, are you all right?" Grandfather asked, drawing his attention up from his plate.

"I'm all right. Why?"

"Well... you're crying." The old man gestured towards his face.

"Crying?" Reaching up, he touched at his face. The tips of his fingers came across a streak of wetness. Were his eyes raining? "Oh.. I guess I am." Then, abruptly, he started to laugh. He let his head drop forward, the surface of the wood rough against his forehead as the laughter rippled out of him, joyous and carefree.

Yinn and Grandfather looked at each other, wondering if they had housed an insane one, before the youth asked tentatively, "...What is it?"

He lifted his head, still laughing, and still feeling himself cry at the same time. "I just.. I just remembered! I just remembered something!"

Yinn smiled faintly. "What's that?"

The stranger stabbed his fork down into the pie. "I remember that I hate lemons."

"You glitch as much as my stove does." Grandfather said, shaking his head.

"That's it!" Yinn declared suddenly, snapping his fingers. "Your brain doesn't fire right, like Grandfather's stove. You're glitched. Glitch is the perfect new name for you."

"Glitch?" He perked up, considering it. Well, he didn't mind being named after a reference to a faulty appliance. It was better than not having a name at all, right? "Okay. Glitch it is.."


"You've got to be kidding me." DG said as she peered into the mirror fixed in the wagon's interior, dubiously eyeing the disguise that had been provided to her.

They had been given over theatrical costumes by Demilo, who had insisted that these were the only things that he currently owned, left over from past performances of shows. He called to her from outside the wagon. "What do you expect? All of my normal stuff was in the wagon that you lifted. Beggars can't be choosers. If you guys want to make people think that you're part of the entertainment, then you need to dress like the entertainment."

"But this is absolutely ridiculous! I look like a walking blue gumball." The only way that she could have described the outfit was a ballerina with proportion problems. Its tutu skirt wrapped around her waist stiffly, the fabric dropping down to just above her knees. The tights were a little darker, as was the top. There was some ridiculous ruffle around her neck, the feathers tickling her chin. It was all so blindingly blue. DG turned away from the mirror, stalking over to push open the back door of the wagon. "This so isn't going to happen."

Raw was unable to help his laughter, pointing at the girl while clutching at his stomach. Ambrose had fallen to the ground with his own uncontrollable cackling, and even Cain was grinning behind the fist he raised up to his mouth to cough into. "Um.. That's quite a look for you, DG."

"Shut up." The princess snapped, nostrils flaring in anger. Her eyes burned daggers down to Demilo, as she growled. "You had better search again and see if there isn't something else for me to wear."

Raising his hands to ward off her anger, Demilo pulled himself up into the wagon beside her. "Fine. I'll look, okay? Maybe I might be able to find something a little less ... blue. But it does look so nice with those pretty eyes of yours."

The girl frowned at Demilo, then asked Cain lightly, "Can I turn him into a frog or something?"

"Not yet." The tin man said with a chuckle, waving her back inside the wagon. "Help him look. It'll go much faster that way."


An hour later, Demilo's wagon unleashed quite the parade of characters once it had parked in the square of Bodwingale Castle. A few of the citizens outside had gathered around the lavish wagon when it had pulled up into sight, recognizing the infamous entertainer. They could only stare in wonder as the back door of the wagon opened up.

Out popped a pretty serving maid, a gladiator, two monks and a naval admiral. The admiral, actually, seemed to be heavy with drink, or so they assumed, considering how easily he tripped out of the wagon. If not for one of the monks steadying him, the man might have fallen to the ground. The serving girl paused in the act of smoothing down the black apron around her waist, seeming to finally notice that they had an audience. Her blue eyes grew wide towards the crowd. "Umm.."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, citizens of Bodwingale! You have the esteemed privilege of being the first known kingdom in the realm that will get to witness the all new, all exciting, all talented Demilo performance troupe in action!" Demilo's voice boomed through the speakers, as cheesy organ music began to crank.

DG looked at the others to see if they had any ideas, before Ambrose took a step ahead of them all. He plucked the broad black hat off his head, then bent forward in a flourishing bow towards the crowd. "Greetings to you all, benevolent citizens of fair Bodwingale."

"Would one of you get him over here?" Cain asked darkly, the tin man and Zero already having gone to the other side of the wagon opposite of the crowd. Hearing him, DG took a step forward next to Ambrose's bowing figure, hastily curtseying to the masses. She then snatched hold of the advisor's arm, dragging him over to where the others had retreated.

Ambrose gave her a hurt look, replacing the hat back on his head. "I was just playing my part of a charming practitioner of the theatrical arts."

"We're not here to perform, we're here to infiltrate." Cain told him, as he reached over to snatch that ridiculous hat off of the man's head. He and Raw kept the monk's robes on, considering that the fabric covered up all of Raw's features, and it was bulky enough for the tin man to keep his coat and gun on underneath. "Now we need to get inside and find our way inside the castle. If we can make our presence known once we have this place under our control, then there's no way that the prince would order the armies to attack, knowing that we have the upperhand here as well as back home."

"We should divide up." Zero suggested, taking measure of the others. "I'll take the girl and the seer. We'll start from the bottom and work our way up. You and Ambrose can sneak to the top, then work your way down. We will meet in the throne room."

"Sounds good to me." DG said with a shrug, before curling her hands into fists. "If anyone decides to try to take us on, I've got some good old magic to unleash on them." The stance did not look very intimidating, considering the puffed nature of her blouse.

"Just be careful." Cain ordered her, before pushing Ambrose lightly ahead of him. "Come on, Glitch. Time to storm the castle."


Cain discarded the robe shortly after they had gone inside, stuffing it behind a sprawling plant in the corner to hide it. He did the same with the hat which Ambrose was trying so desperately to keep, ignoring the man's hurt expression. Cain whispered. "Trust me, it looked stupid."

"Your tastes are questionable, so I will dismiss your callous remark on the grounds of fashion ignorance." The advisor hissed back at a whisper.

Cain shook his head and waved him along, the two of them making their way quietly down a corridor. The tin man wished that they'd had some indication of where in the castle that the throne room was before they'd come in, yet Ambrose swore up and down that he could not remember. Thus, the reason why they had divided up their group for the search. "It's quiet in here."

"I suppose most of Bodwingale's forces must be gathering at the border." Ambrose reasoned, trailing along behind the law man, turning in slow circles to look behind them now and then, to watch for any patrols. "No one here could possibly anticipate that we would try to surprise them with a sneak attack. The idea is absolutely nutters, which is why it's so brilliant, in my opinion."

"Lucky they don't know how crazy we are, I guess."

They found a set of stairs leading upwards, moving up them on their way to the top of the castle. Cain stayed in the lead, not wanting to have Ambrose in immediate harm's way if they ran into any hostiles. Even if it was quiet, he was not about to let his guard down. They passed a few alcoves on their way up, the shadowed archways leading to other hallways for each level. Cain slowed them down each time that they passed one, checking to see that no one was inside to spot them going past on their way up.

"This is almost too easy."

"I think there's a patrol coming up behind us." Ambrose mumbled, almost inaudible.

"What?" Cain asked, not having heard him, turning to ask.

"I said--" With an exasperated sigh, he grabbed hold of the tin man by the lapels of his jacket, thrusting him forward into one of the shadowed alcoves. Cain grunted as his back slammed into the wall, Ambrose flattening beside him.

A pair of soldiers rounded the bend of the stairs a few seconds later, marching up on their patrol. Ambrose held his breath as they reached the alcove where they were hidden, ducking his head down next to Cain's shoulder. Yet the men did not see them, continuing on their trek upwards, the metal of their armor clanking softly as they disappeared somewhere overhead. Ambrose let out his breath in a long sigh, smiling faintly over to Cain as he brushed off the tin man's jacket to smooth the wrinkles out of it. "Sorry. Figured it was faster to dive for cover than to try and explain myself a second time."

"No problem." Cain murmured, studying the other man closely. Ambrose's eyes were intent on his fingers where they continued to smooth at the tin man's coat. He spoke quietly down to the other man. "Ah.. Ambrose.."

"Yeah, Cain?" Dark eyes flew up to his face, blinking curiously as the advisor dropped his hands back to his sides.

"I think you and I might need to talk."

"Can we do it on the way up the stairs? We are kind of in the middle of something, you know." With a teasing smile, Ambrose gestured to the stairwell. "Unless you want to wait for the patrol to come back? I suppose the old trick of knocking them out and stealing their uniforms would be effective in this instance."

"I hadn't considered it, but that will probably be our best bet." Cain agreed. "We'll wait for them to pass back by here."

"Then I guess we have a little time for that talk." Ambrose shifted, leaning back against the wall beside him, arms folding across his chest. "What's on your mind, Cain?"

"Well..." The tin man struggled for words. "I was thinking about something that Raw had said. About you, and about Glitch. It got me thinking about what you had said back in the inn. Remember? When you were talking about persistence?"

"Yeah, I remember." Quirking both eyebrows, Ambrose rubbed absently as his chin, angling his eyes up towards the tin man. "What about it?"

"I think.. I think I may have figured out what you are being persistent about." Cain said softly, blue eyes dropping down to meet brown.

"You think so?" Canting his head to an angle, Ambrose studied him more candidly. "And what did you decide that it was, Cain?"

"The kiss in the warehouse with Glitch. And the... the almost kiss in the lab with you." The tin man reasoned out. "I couldn't figure out why those things happened, or almost happened, and it wasn't until Raw let the hint drop to me that I was able to put it all together." Ambrose found himself pinned by those blue eyes, as Cain concluded at a whisper, "You're in love with me, aren't you, Ambrose?"

Cain was ready for some kind of explosion from the brown-haired man. Either an outburst of indignant anger, or perhaps the sudden meltdown to sobbing, or even having Ambrose start to laugh in his face. He watched the emotions dancing across Ambrose's features, waiting for it to twist itself sharply into some identifiable expression.

Ambrose, however, simply stared up at him with those dark eyes, saying nothing.

The man looked sharply away as a rhythmic clanking started to come down the stairs, that patrol apparently returning. Cain kept his gaze fixed on Ambrose, watching as the man grew tense, muscles coiling. Then it became a blur of motion, as those soldiers came into their line of sight only to crash to the stairs under their feet, collapsing with a few swift strikes of Ambrose's hands against the back of their necks. Once they were down, he waved Cain over, whispering. "Help me get them into the alcove."

Following the instruction, the tin man stepped out, taking hold of one of the men's ankles, and dragged his limp form into the shadows of the archway. Ambrose was doing the same, though having a harder time of it than Cain, considering the size of his own burden. He knelt down immediately beside the guard, beginning to work at the leather latches which held on his armor. Cain watched him work, asking, "Aren't you going to answer my question, or are you pretending that it wasn't spoken?"

"Get dressed." Ambrose ordered him in a clipped voice, peeling off the shells of armor and the thick wool coat that the guard wore. He shrugged out of the admiral's jacket which Demilo had provided, slipping the new one on instead.

Cain found himself angry, and didn't know why. He grudgingly obeyed, stripping off the essential pieces of armor. The coat was close enough to his duster that he didn't need to ditch it, for which he was thankful. Cain worked in silence, firmly securing the armor pieces to the outside of his duster, feeling his jaw clenched tightly. At last, he straightened, looking expectantly towards Ambrose, deciding to let it go for now so that they could get on with it. "Ready?"

"Almost." The advisor answered softly, smoothing the last of the straps into place around his forearm. He stepped forward two steps, closer to Cain, and reached up to adjust the strap of the harness where the law man had bunched it up in his angry haste to place it. Ambrose fixed it for him, eyes on his work, before his fingers came to rest beside the strap against Cain's chest. He found that it was easiest to look at that strap as he said, softly, "I don't know if I know how to do it right. You were married. I'm afraid that my love couldn't live up to your expectations, in comparison with something like that. Glitch feared it too, and now we're just both afraid."

"Ambrose..." Cain whispered, hands lifting up from his sides, reaching for the smaller man.

Yet the advisor had proved too agile, as Ambrose stepped lightly out into the stairwell, leaving Cain clutching empty air. The man's voice was too light, too casual. Forcibly cheerful. "Come on, tin man. We've got a kingdom to save here, remember? Don't make me have to leave you behind." His eyes touched to Cain's, a smile flitting across his mouth, before Ambrose spun around and took off up the stairs, leaving the tin man hurrying to catch up.


"Something tells me that we're lost."

Cain's head turned slowly left to right, peering down the corridor to either side. It all looked the same. He had an uncanny feeling that they were going in circles.

"Maybe we should ask for directions?" Ambrose suggested over his shoulder, the advisor leaning forward to peek over the arm Cain held across in front of him to keep the other from getting ahead.

"Oh, sure. I can see it, now: 'Hi there, I'm one of your fellow soldiers, but I can't find my way to the throne room. Could you point me there?'" Cain glowered at the other man.

"It doesn't sound so unreasonable to me." Ambrose said indignantly, as he swatted the tin man's arm down with a frown. "We just keep making the wrong turn. It's the law of Rights."

Cain gave him a funny look. "What's the 'law of Rights'?"

"If you keep going to the right, you'll eventually end up back where you started." Ambrose explained. "Theoretically, that might also apply to lefts, but no one has ever bothered to publish that line of logic in any scientific journals. I suppose they assume that people will figure that one to be a given."

"You mean to tell me that your science nuts actually published something as silly as a theory on walking around in circles?"

They had begun to move forward again, Ambrose sniffing lightly at the question. "It wasn't like it was my choice. The man was a pioneer of the field. Time had just made him grow senile, but we couldn't very well hold that against him. He was very proud of himself -- thought it was a genius discovery."

"Are all scientists completely bonkers?"

"Yes. Definitely. But I'd like to think of it as part of our charm."

"Charm, huh?" Cain knew he'd never understand people like Ambrose. Which reminded him that he'd intended to explain himself. "Hey, Ambrose? About what you said before.."

The man stopped them in their tracks, knocking the back of his hand against Cain's chest to get his attention. "Look! I think we found it."

Ambrose hurried ahead of the tin man, leaving Cain to trail after him, as they stepped through a large archway, the wooden doors standing open. The stone chamber inside was empty, two thrones sitting unoccupied across the expanse. Ambrose fixed Cain with a sly look, before darting forward. "I ALWAYS wanted to do this!"

As Cain followed along, wondering what the other man meant, he watched as Ambrose dropped himself down into the left-hand chair, where the dominant ruler of the kingdom would normally be positioned. The advisor squirmed a little, before drawing himself up in a regal pose, one delicate hand gesturing haughtily to invisible servants. "What do you think, Cain? Suits me, doesn't it?"

"Sure does." The tin man couldn't help a chuckle. "Tell me that you haven't practiced this in the Queen's chair back home."

Ambrose looked scandalized. "Never! I could never do that, sitting in the Queen's rightful chair. I have nothing but the utmost respect for her." He paused, then murmured, "But I may have practiced in the other chair a few times."

Cain smirked. "No surprise. Now, about what I was trying to say. About earlier..."

The tin man's words filtered off as the sound of marching feet came up into the throne room behind him. Ambrose had already vacated the throne, hurrying over to stand near Cain as a patrol of six soldiers came into the room. They looked surprised to find the pair in there, before the one in their lead scowled. "Hey. You two aren't part of our guard!"

Cain dropped his head forward with a sigh. This was getting ridiculous! How was he expected to sort this out with Ambrose in a timely manner with all these interruptions? His blue eyes touched to the advisor's, muttering. "This talk isn't finished yet."

Then they jumped forward to attack.


Between the two of them, they'd managed to take down the entire patrol, but not before one of the guards could ring a large bell inside the throne room, which sounded as an alarm to the other patrols in the castle. They found that group of six swelling up in numbers as more arrived to handle the attackers. Cain and Ambrose bumped backs together, fighting off the tide as soldiers filtered in through the doors in waves.

"I never claimed to have any expectations." Cain snapped shortly, before launching his fist into the face of an oncoming soldier.

Ambrose paused in the act of taking hold of a soldier's head, gaping back at the man over his shoulder, breathing out in disbelief. "Could we talk about this later, Cain?"

"No. I want to sort it out.." His words lapsed as he had to drive a knee up into another soldier's stomach, "...now, before it bothers me any further."

The guard which Ambrose held fell unconcious to the ground. "Fine, if you insist." Spinning gracefully, the advisor had already fallen into the motions of his deadly dance, Ambrose going through the steps without fail. As he kicked his foot up into one of the guard's faces, he addressed Cain in an irritated voice. "Just because you think that you don't have expectations doesn't mean that you don't have expectations."

"That's rather unfair to assume, isn't it?" Cain called back to the other, flipping a man over his arm, knocking his head on the hard stone floor beneath. "I mean, it's not as if I don't have issues with the entire subject at large. I'm awkward with that stuff now."

"Understandable." Ambrose had leapt forward, his leg kicking out in front of him, sending one soldier reeling back to knock another two down. "Considering the fact that you're a walking example of emotional issues personified, I suppose it would be nothing more than mere speculation if I were to try to determine how your feelings operated."

Cain grunted as he blocked a swinging punch with an upraised arm, returning the blow with incredible force to the guard's solar plexus. "Is that your way of saying that you're sorry for trying to psycho-analyze me?"

"Considering the sizeable amount of my own emotional, mental and psychology ailments at this current time," Ambrose pivoted in a circle, dodging a man who charged for him, using the guard's momentum to knock his head into the wall, "I am hardly fit to judge anyone else's condition."

"So do you think that you could at least give me the chance to figure it out for myself, before you make up your mind without my input that it won't work?" Cain panted out, before getting knocked backwards by a stray fist.

As he staggered back, Ambrose was moving forward, and Cain winced at the sound the nose made underneath the advisor's foot as the guard collapsed back with a spray of blood from both nostrils. "Fine, Cain."

"Fine." The tin man agreed, punching out another guard.

"Fine." Ambrose repeated with a firm nod, dispatching a man with a few precise blows to his torso.

Cain realized that there was no one else trying to attack them. His fists were still raised, searching for the next person to hit, but there were only piles of unconscious guards around them, and a sweeping first glance put the preliminary numbers close to twenty men. Ambrose was also still in his fighting stance, arms poised in the air, panting as heavily as Cain.

The law man dropped his arms to his sides, relaxing for the moment as he looked around the room, before turning towards Ambrose. He saw the advisor's limbs lowering, as he belatedly saw that they were not still under attack, the man glancing in Cain's direction once feeling the weight of the tin man's gaze. Ambrose's hair was tousled from the fight, face flushed from exertion, eyes on fire from battle and the thrill of the dance, as angry and intense as Cain himself felt.

"Oh, hell.."

Cain moved forward at the same second that Ambrose did, hands moving automatically to catch the weight of the smaller man as the advisor jumped up against his chest. He felt legs pinching against his ribs, but that was a minor distraction from the feeling of the mouth crashing against his in a kiss.

That kiss was all heat, moist and hungry, making Cain wonder if Ambrose were going to try to climb into his mouth. The advisor's arms were clumsily snaked around his neck, not at all as graceful as they'd been when dispatching enemies, Cain's hat falling unnoticed to the ground as their heads tried to fit better together, mouths searching.

Ambrose's lips were burning an imprint of their shape into his, soft little noises of want panting out of him which Cain eagerly swallowed. The tin man tried to keep them steady, not wanting to drop Ambrose or fall over, as that would risk breaking the moment -- he'd had enough interruptions for one lifetime already. It was not easy, though, considering the feel of Ambrose pressed so close, making Cain feel the racing pulse of the other through their clothes, more fuel feeding into the fire.

They came up for air, eyes closed, Ambrose's forehead tilting forward to rest against Cain's. Their breaths were slipping out in a chaotic rush, dancing as intimately as their lips had been. The tin man felt the other began to laugh, softly, disbelieving, before he opened his own eyes to find himself the sole focus of those brown ones. Cain felt those legs loosing their hold, and allowed Ambrose to slide back down onto his feet, leaning heavy there against him. "We should have had that over and done with a long time ago."

"Yeah.." Cain found that he was less articulate than usual at the moment, lips still tingling from the now absent pressure which had left them. He bent down to collect his hat, intent on replacing it on his head, but Ambrose took hold of the man's wrist on the way up.

As Cain eyed him curiously, the advisor plucked the hat out of Cain's fingers and placed it on his own head, exaggerating a wink up to the tin man. "If we're on such good terms, then I get to wear this, at least for a few minutes."

"Knock yourself out."